Submission (#67) Approved

As amber light descends, the colors dash across like pigment to water; clouded, layering hues to paint across every day’s closure. It shouldn’t be difficult to catch Eden gazing higher up from eye level, admiring the picturesque sight in favor of the people below.

They have learned that that fleeting moment is imperative to recognize. One must notice the change, the page-turning, the effort to get to the following chapter. There is revelry in soundless, visual acknowledgment. It is the final descent of a day, its contents good or bad, it is definite closure in worlds not constrained by definite power, like times natural to the Wildwoods. The passage of days can be mimicked there, but only when you can see the colors evolve into the growing darkness, that's how you know there's something to look forward to.

It is a trap, to hide away in half of the realms that their kind habituates, it’s a cruelty to the self to bury half of who one is, it’s shameful as it is pitiful.

And such is why Eden spares their energy to take up a camera, to peer behind the lens, and snap away those passing glimpses, the early glints of starlight, the wash of pink and purple, some days the blood of berries and others rich as persimmons. Perhaps it’s an oath, they never did declare, but it is their dedication that moves them to place each shot layered one after another, curly ink differentiating this one from that one. They keep their box dusty, for safekeeping. This is their caught echos.

Each one a brand new day.

Reward	Amount
Cinder	350